Lifted Heights, Hopeful Startings
by LostVerity
Summary: In the end, perhaps there really did exist a future where he could spend more time with them. (A series of one-shots centered around a "Xerxes Break survives" AU.)
1. Awake

_A/N: Welcome to my self-indulgent "Xerxes Break survives" AU, with the main inspiration behind this fic coming from that alternate scene where everyone lived. Reading the series for the third time now gave me the motivation to give the whole_ Pandora Heart's _cast the happy ending they deserve, but for this fic in particular, I'm going to write more about Xerxes finding himself and further develop his relationships with the other characters (specifically, Sharon and Reim). This also provides more practice with writing them, since I'm kind of unfamiliar with what can be considered in-character and such; if you do think even one character is slightly OOC, please tell me so that I can try to focus on improving them in the future._

 _Most of the chapters that'll come from here will most likely be connected, but that doesn't mean they have to be read in a particular order. It helps in the future, but for the most part, you can read them as individual one-shots if you like._

 _Also, you may notice that Xerxes is referred to his first name in here. It's just a preference, really—he's still called "Break" by the others._

* * *

 **[1]**

 _Summary:_ _He wakes up with a startling realization._

* * *

In a distance that could almost be mistakenly heard right near the ears, the soft chirping of birds can be heard alongside the trees that rustles against the wind. Murmured voices, hushed whispers, and faint laughter in and outside the room mix together, creating a noise that's almost indistinguishable and suffocating with the slow, increasing volume of emotions. Happiness, disgust, anguish, excitement—they clash together, drawing painfully louder to his ears despite how disconnected he and them were.

It becomes unbearable, quite frankly. Snapping open his eye and meeting the darkness that greets him, Xerxes catches his breath when he leans up from the bed and places a hand over his chest that continues to have a living, beating heart.

 _Oh,_ he realizes once it registers, _I'm alive._ After having taken the attack for Vincent, he was certain that it meant the end for him. He clearly remembers the blood from the fatal wound, the burning pain in each staggering step he took; he vividly recalls pulling forward Oz, Alice, and Gilbert, leading them to the destination where their fate awaited. The image of Sharon and Reim running towards him, catching his dying body as they clung to him is engraved in his memory as he breathed his last and smiled, finally relieved from the past that had chained him up until his very last moment.

He had thought that he was finished. But in some way, somehow, he was here, in-tact and well.

Was this a dream? Had he not used Mad Hatter enough to the brink of death? Surely, he wasn't in the abyss—considering that everything around him _feels_ like it's in place, it would seem those three had made it in the end, which meant...

A dry chuckle escapes out of him. Paling at what could have been his final moments, Xerxes leaves the matter at that. Exhaustion overwhelms him, and he falls back down to his pillow, closing his eye before opening it again. The awful feeling of Glen's sword digging into his flesh still lingers on his shoulder, making it hard to ignore. His body may be in needing of rest, but his mind was being restless and playing tricks on him, preventing him from sleeping peacefully.

Not to mention his bed felt strange. There was another weight besides his own added to it, one that supposedly belongs to somebody else. He shifts to his right and there—

 _Snoring._ Too occupied in his own musings, he had failed to notice Sharon at his side, her slumber not disturbed in the slightest in the midst of his uneasiness. It's a miracle, honestly; he wouldn't get hit by her harisen immediately upon seeing the up-close of his face.

The expectation of her waking up and expressing her worries reminds him of the past instances that happened in a similar fashion, creating a sense of guilt in him; it's as if he's learned nothing from these months. She continues to look after him in spite of the pain it gives to her while he, in return, allows her to stay by his side, indulging in his own selfishness of wanting to protect her. They were too involved in each other's lives—separating from the other's presence was in its own right _difficult_ , especially given how long they've known one another.

It explained a lot as to why they were so close. Still, that didn't mean there were no boundaries or distances placed above their heads.

"This isn't good, my lady," he mumbles, amused at her peaceful dozing; the sight calms him enough to temporarily forget about his own burdens. "You see, rumors of a man and woman sleeping on the same bed will go around if someone was to pass by, and I can't allow myself to taint your name with such a fallacy. So surely, you understand why—" his grip on the bed sheets tightened as he leans up, "—I must do _this!"_

Casting aside every concern of his weak body, he yanks the blanket she was on, causing her to fall into the soft mattress instead. The impact, however, is enough to stir her up as she grumbles and squints her eyes to look at the cheerful perpetrator. She barely recognizes him, the sunlight blurring her vision, but as soon as she focuses on his familiar red eye, she comes to her senses and pulls herself up.

"Break..." Sharon frowns, wondering if she was hallucinating; she examines him closely. _"...Break?"_

He waves at her nonchalantly, as if it was just another normal day. "If you keep repeating my name at this rate, you won't ever forget it! The others will get worried if they were to hear my name from your mouth, though."

There's no reaction to the teasing; as if tranced, she keeps her stare on him. Her lips are pressed in a firm line, eyes shining with tears threatening to spill at any second. Split between taking out her annoyance and hugging him joyfully, her body trembles as she takes in a few steady breaths to calm herself from getting overly emotional.

 _Oh dear._ Xerxes purposefully avoids her gaze, trying to find a way out this solution—nothing comes up. If Sharon starts crying, he's not sure what to do, given his position. Crack a joke? Reassure her that he was fine? None of them looked plausible this time around, placing him in a sticky situation. _This wasn't what I planned._

After sitting in silence for what felt like an eternity, she slowly grasps his hand. It catches him by surprise, but Xerxes nonetheless permits it, wondering what was on her mind.

She furrows her eyebrows, inspects it thoroughly, turns his hand over and over. Just when it appears like she's done, she repeats the process, anxiousness rising with every movement becoming more clumsy. The actions are worrying, to say the least, that he asks what's she doing once it became clear she wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"Is there something about my hand that's so interesting to you?"

Sharon halts, glances at him. Then, she shakes her head with evident embarrassment in her voice. "I'm...just confirming."

"'Confirming'?" He hums in interest. "Confirming _what,_ may I ask?"

She lets go, and the warmth from her hand goes away.

"That you're..." A short pause. "...real. I was making sure that you're real."

He blinks—that wasn't quite the answer he had expected. "Oh," is all he can think to say.

Sharon, seemingly aware of how strange that sounded, clears her throat and explains. "It's been twenty days. You've been asleep for almost three weeks, and everyone believed that you wouldn't..." Her throat becomes dry. Rather than continuing, she settles on starting a new topic instead. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Hungry?" He hadn't paid attention to it, but Xerxes did find himself wanting to have something to eat. It was no wonder why he felt even weaker than usual—with his chain's damaging effect on him and the lack of food, he was utterly useless in his current condition.

So, he nods. Sharon stands up from his bedside and hurriedly walks to the door much to his disliking.

"I'll have someone prepare you a light meal then! Once you're done eating, we can..."

Hesitation keeps her from finishing the sentence twice now. Regardless, Xerxes understands what she's hinting at and as always grins back to reassure her.

"Of course. Both of us have a lot of catching up to do, don't you think?"

* * *

Despite the fact that he would much rather have cake and tea to enjoy, he doesn't complain about the soup given to him. It's high quality, served delightfully by the amazing cooks of the Rainsworth mansion, and he definitely wouldn't mind eating it from time to time had sweets not become a daily part of his life.

Xerxes quite likes the soup. There was no problem with it—but there was a problem with his _lady_ _feeding him_.

How could this happen? He can't look at her—it's too embarrassing. He had believed that it was always him doing these things for her, but to have the roles reversed? He was having a difficult experience adjusting to it.

Their previous, small argument added further salt to the wound; he was ready to eat it himself until she had suddenly moved the soup away from him, asking what he was doing. The confusion was ever so apparent on his face that he asked her what _she_ was doing, only to hear that she was obviously going to feed him.

 _"You're weak, Break. If you struggled pulling those bed sheets from underneath me, you'll struggle lifting up a spoon too."_

Exasperation (and shame) filled inside him. _"Sharon, it's fine—"_

She refused to listen. _"It's_ not _fine. We've talked about this a hundred times now yet you persist on doing everything alone! Even when your hand is shaking, you stubbornly act as if you're capable of handling it! Will you ever give up?"_

 _"I assure you that I'm entirely well enough to do feed myself. See? I'm not shaking at all!_ _A spoon won't hurt m—"_

All words of his protest died with his insistence on proving otherwise the very moment the eating utensil escaped from his hold and clattered on to the plate. In silence, the both of them stared at the fallen piece of silver before Sharon finally picked it up.

Regardless of whether or not it was intended to be heard, Xerxes had heard her mutter under it her breath as she leaned over: _"Mister One-Man-Show."_

He can't help but question the ordeal's cruelty regarding him. With each sip, he hopes that the next one will be its last.

For a while, it's quiet between them—uncomfortably so. The soft _tink_ of the spoon against the bowl of soup is what breaks it.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hm?"

"Your... Your shoulder. Is it okay?"

Xerxes opens his mouth, considering to tell her that it doesn't. But a part of him decides _no, I have to_ , and without brooding too much, he does just that.

"There's some pain," he admits, grimacing at its reminder. The ghost of the sword stabs deeper into him, but he refrains himself from hissing aloud. "It might go away in a few days, but it won't be a problem."

"Really?" Fear slips into her voice; the bowl threatens to tip over. "Break, if you have another problem, you need to—"

"I will." Xerxes offers a half-smile. "If it gets in my way, I'll be sure to tell you."

She isn't very convinced, and he doesn't blame her—he often says things he don't mean. "...You promise?"

He swears and makes an oath. Sharon ultimately sighs, accepting defeat.

"I trust you," she mumbles. "Don't think I'll forgive you if you don't keep it."

"I wouldn't dare."

Xerxes expects her to pick up the spoon up and return back to feeding him, but it stays where it is. She still has things to say, ask—it never comes out. At odds with her better judgement, she was stopping herself from moving on to a subject uncomfortable to them both.

He has an inkling as to why. The whole situation, what happened—it was too soon and insensitive to bring up the tragedy when they were just recovering from it. He understands, however, that it's also best for them to discuss the events rather than avoiding and prolonging it.

 _Enough days have passed. It's necessary,_ Xerxes believes. He's going to prompt her to try and ease off the stress on her shoulders, but before he can—he hears her slapping herself.

Alarm rises in him. He instinctually reaches over, meeting nothing but the empty air. "Sharon?"

"I'm okay," she replies quickly, reappearing within his distance. His nerves relax upon brushing against a lock of her hair. "I'm...preparing myself, that's all. Ignore me."

His lady takes in a huge breath, then exhales; she does this a few more times as he waits patiently. Before long, with a newfound will and face of determination, she manages to find the confidence to speak again, impressing Xerxes with how calm and composed her voice sounded. Her steps to becoming the proper Rainsworth woman are getting closer and closer, reminding him that the Sharon next to him was not a child anymore but a growing woman.

"When...Reim and I arrived," Sharon begins, cheeks stinging, "you looked like a ghost. It really felt like you were going to disappear forever, leaving us behind." She clenches the bowl, keeping the silver from rattling as much against it. "I could feel your body growing colder. It—it was _scary_. You were dying in our arms, and there was nothing we could have done."

He falls quiet, listening to her. Xerxes couldn't imagine what had went through their heads. Truthfully, he had been grateful towards his blindness, or he would have seen the expressions on their faces: _hurting, crying, wishing._ It would have made things harder on him to accept his fate as it was otherwise. In another way, it can be said that he's quite selfishly _glad_ to his damned misfortune from seeing such a painful sight. To leave them and see their faces one last time, full of grief and despair?

Xerxes wouldn't have forgiven himself.

"...Hearing you say that you didn't want to die was so cruel," Sharon confesses bitterly. "You always talked about how you were always ready to die, how you only needed to fulfill that one goal of yours, even if it meant sacrificing yourself. You never allowed anything else to cloud your way, keeping it as your number one priority, that when you found another reason to live, I was relieved."

She lets out a choked laugh. "I felt _happy,_ Break. Is... I-isn't that horrible of me? You were dying, yet hearing those words had gave me hope. It was the most sincerest thing I heard you say. That's why after you stopped breathing at that moment, it hurt so, so much..."

 _Ah._ He's finding it difficult to speak—serious talks like these were hard, and he never was the best at confronting his own feelings. Lowering his head, he awkwardly croaks out, "Sorry," before cringing when he sees that even Sharon finds the response strange.

"W-what are you apologizing for? Saying that so suddenly... You're such a handful sometimes." Shaking her head gently, she grabs his hand again, smiling at him even with warm tears running down her cheeks. " _I_ should be the one saying that! I'm sorry, Break. I'm really sorry for thinking that."

Xerxes can tell that she's crying—her cracking voice and shaking hand points to it. Unsure of what to do, he hesitantly chooses to squeeze their locked hands in an effort to comfort her. "You shouldn't be apologizing either—there's nothing to be sorry for. I'm...glad that you thought of me to that extent," he decides, feelings ringing true. He had failed to notice how much attention she paid to him without even a gesture of acknowledgment yet she continued to watch his back and care for him. "With the number of problems I cause, you still choose to involve yourself with old, troublesome me."

"So you _do_ agree you're like that?" Another laugh leaves her; this time, it's a little more uplifting. "It's a miracle that you're here. If we were a second late, I don't think you could have ever made it."

Xerxes hums. "But it's good that we made in the end, right?" A small smile forms on his face. "Thanks for saving my life."

Sharon manages to give one back, noticeably less tense than before, despite her slight shaking. "And thank _you_ for hanging on. I'm not sure if I can ever forgive myself for thinking so terribly, but..." She looks down fondly at his hand. "...I'm truly happy that you're alive."

The words " _I am too"_ lies on the tip of his tongue, but they don't come out, forcing him to settle for something else less direct. "I'm afraid I can't exit the stage by myself yet. I have a duty I need to do, after all."

She looks at him curiously, sniffling. "And that is...?"

"Why—" Xerxes leans forward to wipe her eyes, "—to live to my fullest, of course! There's still so much to do. With you, Reim..." His smile reaches his eye. "And everyone else, as well. We have that tea party to do, don't we? I'm not leaving anywhere without eating something sweet first."

"Break..." Sharon's taken back at first, but then she narrows her gaze at him and sighs, moving away from his touch and picking up the spoon. "Just admit that you want to see everyone again. Quit sugarcoating everything."

As expected, she saw through him; he only laughs in response, feeling lighter than ever. She feeds him the lukewarm soup, watching him switch attitudes and grow increasingly disconcerted with amusement, but inside, she silently thanks him.


	2. Old Reunions, Same Faces

_A/N: You might notice that I use honorifics for some of the characters—this is due to the fact that translating it into English kind of sounds weird to me. In other words, I'm the problem here. This only applies to names, really, since you probably have noticed that I don't use Japanese titles when referring to Sharon._

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 **[2]**

 _Summary: He reunites with two old friends for a second time._

* * *

Xerxes always thought that with his lack of sight, there would be more room for surprises and secrets between them. With a feeble body that could easily fall down at any given moment and a handicap that couldn't ever be gotten rid of, he was the easy target of someone who could be taken advantage of and kept in the dark—quite literally _and_ figuratively—without so much as breaking a sweat. He may as well have been fulfilling his nickname with the number of troubles he carries, the infamous "good-for-nothing middle-aged man who does nothing but eat sweets whenever he can".

Nevertheless, Xerxes would still say that he's observant, just not _constantly_ on guard. But that doesn't mean he'll let things happen as they please—once something catches his attention, he can't ignore it.

And that's exactly the situation with Sharon. It's rather difficult _not_ noticing the obvious, especially when she was acting overwhelmingly suspicious around him in her efforts of trying to hide something; he would have never bat an eye if she had been her normal self. There was nothing noticeably strange with her behavior at first, but it started becoming quite apparent whenever her voice raised in pitches and her usual coming and leaving of his room grew quicker than the last.

It confused him, why she was working so hard. While it was probably more favorable to pretend and turn his head from the truth, he was too interested behind her reasons and wanted to know.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asks her the next day she comes in. The ruffles of her dress catches his ears, as well as the way it brushes against the floor—she isn't wearing her light attire. Already, he has an idea of what to anticipate.

Sharon freezes, a nervous giggle coming out as she reaches his bed. There's some shuffling. "Ah, I... I am," she confirms in a quiet voice. "How...did you know?"

"I have ears," Xerxes chirps with a grin, "and, well, you're not the _greatest_ at hiding things from me. You should try working on your acting skills, my lady! How else are you going to impress young boys?"

She resists the urge to hit him with her fan. Huffing, she turns away from him, grumbling, "You don't need to remind me. I know perfectly well how... _awful_ my acting was."

She was aware of it, too! Good. Xerxes feels a little less bad for confronting her now. "Don't worry, it's the attempt that counts! We'll practice more when we can. Moving on from that for now though..." His eyebrow shoots up. "Where are you going? Or, should I say, where will you be heading?"

They both know that there's really no point in delaying the truth any further. Sharon sighs, shoulders sagging at the fact this couldn't have been prevented. "Sablier," she answers, the name surprising him. "I must return back to help out the repairs and restore little of the order it has left with everyone."

That's right—he forgot that it's only been a few weeks since the incident. Without a doubt, chaos continues to run in the former capital city, its small population affected as a result by everything that has happened. Saving little of what there is was important, not only to history but to all those who impacted or have been impacted by it. To ignore its situation was simply not virtuous, not to mention cruel.

Having been involved and carrying the duty as the future Rainsworth Duchess on her shoulders, of course it's expected for Sharon to return. The thought, however, of her going alone on her journey there is unpleasant, causing him to rise from the bed and remove the comfortable bed sheets off of him.

"Then I'm going with you," Xerxes decides. He doesn't trust himself enough to do nothing but watch.

"I knew you were going to say that." Sharon groans, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "You can't, Break. You're still healing from your wound, and you haven't walked for so long."

"It's no matter." Swinging his legs over the bed, Xerxes stands with a slight unbalance, wobbling for a brief moment before finding the proper footing. "Oh, would you look at that? It seems like I can walk fine! Besides..." He moves his shoulder around; no pain shoots from it. The first few days were tortuous, but now nothing held him down. "It recovered a long time ago. So that means there's no reason I _can't_ go, right?"

Sharon frowns. He has her beat. "No...but why do you want to go very badly?"

The answer is obvious. "Because I'll be bored! Sitting around all day in bed with no visitors is like a horrible punishment when I've done nothing wrong. And I get lonely without you or Reim here!"

 _Is that really it?_ Sharon narrows her eyes at him and assumes there's another reason, but she excuses it as her imagination getting in the way again. "I have no other choice left, do I? As always, you..."

He tilts his head at her, encouraging her to continue. She chooses not to and instead leaves for the other side of the room, grabbing a slick object and placing it firmly into his hands.

"If you're coming with me then you need this."

The shape gives away what it is. His eye widens at its familiarity. "This is..."

"A cane," Sharon confirms, audibly flustered as she sighs. "Reim-san and I thought it might inconvenient for you to walk since your old one went missing, so we got you a new one that's more, er...more Break-like."

Xerxes almost snorts at the description. "Is that so?"

She gives a small nod. "It's good for fighting as well."

"I'm assuming that you tried that out?" He smiles when she doesn't immediately respond; he pictures what she must have looked like, the woman who was perfectly capable with most weapons but lacked in swordsmanship. "Thank you for this—I appreciate it."

"You should be mostly thanking Reim-san! He was the one who suggested it and helped out with the preparations."

Did he? How nice of him! Xerxes had more to tease his uptight friend about. "I won't forget," he murmurs evily, a glint of mischief in his eye.

It doesn't go unnoticed. Maybe she shouldn't have said that.

 _Sorry, Reim-san! I'll make it up to you another time..._

Silence fills between them. While Xerxes tests the cane for how it feels, Sharon wonders what else they need when she looks at the attire he was still in— _oh._ He still needs to change.

She goes over to his closet and grabs the washed clothes, ridden of its stains. The blood that was once there before was now gone, leaving no trace of what happened back there. Memories of his injured state refuses to be forgotten, but she pushes the disturbing thoughts away and hands him the clothes.

They stare at it. Sharon remembers what used to be easy and natural for him was now an awkward task.

"Do you need some help changing? It might be tough for you to..."

She trails off; he can hear the frown in her voice, the uneasiness in each word. Such an expression doesn't suit her. Xerxes pretends to ponder over it when an idea hits him.

" _Why_ , are you making that offer to me...?" He gasps, glancing away shyly and batting his eye for added effect. "My lady, we shouldn't—"

She whacks him before he can finish, blushing furiously at the outrageous joke being made of all times. "All those sweets are getting to your head! Stop messing around already!"

"How horrible!" he cries out, laughing in the end. "I was only answering back!"

(The back of his head may be suffering from some pain, but at least Sharon's smiling now. The exchange is definitely worth it.)

* * *

The trip was long inside the carriage. The beautiful and bright scenery of Reveil shifted into the dark and gloomy lands of Sablier, with little to no life seen anywhere in its harsh climate. The sky turning pitch black indicated how close they were to the city, lightning thundering above their heads more and more alongside the rain that soon poured down once they arrived.

A few of the remaining streets flickers on and off, giving them little light to see where they were going in the thick fog. In the distance, a voice can be heard barking out orders.

Sharon's hand tightens around his sleeve. She leads him forward, watching their surroundings carefully.

After some walking do they finally arrive at the House of Fianna. What was once an orphanage was now a temporary shelter for everyone; children and other residents were scattered throughout the small mansion, unfazed at the storm outside while a few of the remaining Pandora members were discussing plans and strategies the next time they head out.

A familiar voice calls out to her, footsteps gradually coming closer. "Lady Sharon! You're here!"

"Hmm? Ah!" A huge smile spreads across her face upon seeing the owner. "Reim-san!"

 _Reim?_ Xerxes perks up. It's been a while since he's heard how his best friend sounds.

The man is out of breath when he reaches them. "You... You managed to come after all." He inspects Sharon closely before sighing in relief. "I thought that something bad happened along the way. Thank goodness you're alright."

"Thank you for your concern." Sharon smiles warmly at him before looking around the living room. She starts becoming anxious. "Um, my grandmother..."

"She's alright," Reim eases her worst fears. "At the moment, she is resting right now. Do you wish to see her? I'm sure she doesn't mind."

At that, she relaxes. "No, it's fine! She needs the sleep."

"Truly?" When she nods, he lets the topic drop. "I'll move on to the important news then. You see, we—"

" _Hey_ ," Xerxes speaks up, offended at the lack of his presence, "I'm here too. Why aren't you asking me anything?"

Reim scrutinizes his eyes at him, unimpressed. "Because Lady Sharon is my priority and we heard that she was supposedly arriving _alone,_ " he states. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed? How can you move up and about when you haven't rested enough?"

He waves off his worries. "Two weeks is enough. I can't allow all of you to do all the work while I'm doing nothing either, you know."

"Still trying to play hero, I see."

Xerxes chuckles at his sigh. "Not quite! Now I'm just doing what I want to do."

"That's hardly believable."

A fake pout is directed at him. "Reim-san, you're too mean."

"Am I?" Reim shakes his head in disagreement, but a hint of a smile can be seen on his face. "Well, whatever you do, let's just hope that it doesn't involve that recklessness of yours..." Clearing his throat, he fixes his glasses and reviews the papers assigned to him. "Currently, our progress on Sablier has been smooth, but there are still some problems concerning the poverty and crimes that occur. Unfortunately, I don't think the former can be fixed as soon as we want it to, but we have been putting a stop to the number of illegal activities going around."

Sharon glances over at the papers. "Activities...?"

"Stealing, breaking into buildings... Some have even resorted to killing." Reim looks over his shoulder where a majority of the kids were playing games. "It's horrible to see how far this place has gone. It makes sense as to why one would take advantage of the situation."

"As if it'll make things better," Xerxes mutters. A yawn leaves him. "I suppose you want us to look around for any trouble then?"

"If possible." Reim's gaze lands on Sharon. "But if you have any objections, I can..."

She meets his eyes and gives a reassuring nod. "I said I would do anything I could, remember?" A laugh leaves her. "It's okay."

Reim can't help smiling back. "Of course. My apologies." He reaches into his pocket, giving them a map of the city. "Here you go. Inside the circle is where I want you to inspect... It's rather hard to see, so be careful."

Sharon awes at how detailed the map was. Since it was once capital city for the four households, it was to be expected but she hadn't imagined how huge and expansive it was. Walking around gave it an entirely different picture.

"Amazing, isn't it? I had the same reaction." Reim's voice turns somber as he clutches the papers closer to him. "To have such a drastic change... It's a shame."

"Indeed..."

Quietness. The sudden mood change irks Xerxes to glance back and forth between them before speaking up. The outside is already gloomy enough—they shouldn't be under the weather even more.

"...There's no point dwelling on the past, is there? What's done is done," he mumbles, sighing and patting both of them on the back comfortingly. "All we can do is move forward and try our best. _That's_ what's going to help in the long run. So don't hang your heads low like that."

The two exchange a silent look of surprise, moved by his words and wisdom. Their deafening silence makes Xerxes wonders if he had went too far, but then, one of them leans over to the other.

" _Did he hit his head on the way here?_ " Reim whispers to Sharon, casting a disturbed glance at the undignified man. " _Xerxes_ never _acts like this._ "

 _"I made sure to pay attention to him closely.._. _I'm scared that he may have somehow."_

 _"That's worrying. Should we lay him down?"_

"Stop it," Xerxes grumbles, giving Reim a hard push. "Your whispering is creeping my ears out." He frowns at Sharon next. "Does everything I say really sound that untrustworthy?"

She gives him a puzzled look before fully understanding his question. "It's not that, Break," she giggles. "It's just..."

He furrows his eye.

"...nice. And honest." Her heart flutters slightly. "It feels like you're letting us in now."

* * *

It's so dreary and dull, exploring the wreck and walking on little of what was left of the streets. There was rubble everywhere, cracked grounds, devastated houses, irreparable buildings—every corner and direction had destruction and ruin. The loud thundering in the sky or heavy downpour of the rain couldn't distract them from the reality of Sablier's condition.

Dreadful is another word Xerxes would use to describe it. He steps into yet another puddle that splashes up his leg as another bolt of lightning crashes down. Terribly dreadful.

Sharon sticks close, grabbing on to him with trembling hands. Her squeaks startles him more times than the actual weather itself. He tries his best not to lose his footing on the slippery pavement.

"Is this your first time traveling down here?"

She buries her face into his sleeve when another thunderbolt strikes. " _I-it is._ "

He whistles. That wasn't quite good. "And you were planning on coming here alone? My, my... It's good that I came after all." His amusement was growing. "If I hadn't what would you do?"

Sharon murmurs something incomprehensible. He leans down to get a better hearing with a smile on his face.

"I can't hear you, my lady."

 _"...I...not...anyway..."_

Xerxes raises a hand to his ear. "Hmm? _Hmm_?"

Her cheeks grows hotter. Glaring up at him, she repeats, the words much more distinguishable, _"I wouldn't have left you anyway..."_

Sarcasm drips into his voice. _"Really?"_

Sharon moves away from him despite her wobbling legs, too stubborn to admit more than she has to. "If you're not going to walk, I will."

Xerxes moves with her as she does, shielding her from the rain with their umbrella. The annoying twinkle in his eye never leaves, and she avoids looking over to his side, knowing that he'll continue teasing her if she does.

After some more rainfall does he speak again in a distant voice. "...I was shocked, you know. I never imagined you taking on such a huge responsibility."

She frowns. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. A little surprising, but not bad." He muses on it some more before looking away. "I guess what I'm trying to say is—I'm proud of you."

Sharon stops, slack-jawed. Her overall silence puts him on the spot, and he inwardly cringes at himself. Damn it. This was much harder than he thought it would be. His feelings were real, no doubt, but maybe he should have put them into better words.

"Actually," he starts, composure quickly crumbling, "what I meant to say was—"

 _"Thank you."_

The underlying happiness in her voice stops him right in his tracks. It prevents him from thinking clearly, and he doesn't know what to say next. A serious response or a playful one? It usually wasn't difficult to think of something, but he was having his own little problem of trying to form the right sentence he wants to say.

Having cold feet isn't fun. Xerxes opens his mouth even though no words come out.

Sharon approaches him. "Break, hold out your hand for a second."

He complies. A question of why she was doing this rises, but it vanishes when a small, soft fabric is put into his palm. Xerxes stares wide-eyed at it when he realizes what it is.

"Before we left," Sharon recalls with difficulty, "I saw her. She... She was torn into pieces, but I couldn't leave her back there, so I took her with us and sew her back together when we returned."

As if drawn to them, Xerxes traces over the stitching on the doll. Some areas were more messed up than others, but he barely pays any attention to them—he's still adjusting to the truth that Emily was in his hands, sewn together in the right places.

Like him, she suffered a great wound on her left shoulder. Unlike him, however, she also suffered many more wounds concerning her left side completely. They were scars that would carry with him and her forever.

"It took a few weeks, but I hope I didn't do mess up _too_ badly," she goes on. "It's my first time sewing something other than clothing, so—"

"Why?" he manages out, cutting her off.

"Huh? 'Why'...?"

His hold on Emily is delicate. Something stings in his eye, but it doesn't dare fall. "Why are you going this far?" he clarifies, leaving out the _for me_ part.

Sharon thinks about it deeply. Then, she answers in an obvious tone, "She deserves to be returned back to her rightful place."

He's not so sure about that. "But—"

" _And_ ," she quickly cuts him off this time, crossing her arms, "Emily means a lot to you, doesn't she?" She closes his hand around the doll; her voice turns compassionate and soft. "She's a part of you, Break... Leaving her means you're leaving behind your past. You know how important that is."

Xerxes supposes he do. He rejects the idea at first, but the blue doll kept reminding him of _her,_ of _them._ His precious memories, his precious past—without them, he wouldn't have ever been _Xerxes Break._ He would have just been Kevin Regnard, the bitter, grieving knight who gave up on his life and morals a long time ago the moment he failed protecting the family he swore to serve.

 _I can't ever escape you, can I...?_ With a sad smile, he slowly places the doll on his scarred shoulder, shifting her around until she was firmly sat. The comfortable weight of her body replaces the lightness his left arm felt, closing the large gap between him and the wind.

(He forgot how cold it had felt without her. It didn't feel as bad as he thought, the way she drags him down.)

 _"It's about time! I was tired of waiting!"_

The high-pitch voice isn't his. Snapping his head to look at Sharon, he can hear her crying quietly from embarrassment.

"Sha—"

She stops him there. "T-t-that wasn't me, Break. Okay? It was Emily."

"Emily?"

 _"Th—that's RIGHT! Did you forget who I am!?"_

The voice is horribly forced and amateurish. Seeing Sharon coughing as an attempt to hide her obvious humiliation is an unbelievable act, one that reached his heart and made him happy from how hardshe was trying. Xerxes bursts out laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, from her to himself.

 _She knows how to cheer me up, doesn't she? This girl..._

He peeks over at the doll, shaking his head disapprovingly. "How could I ever forget? Sorry for keeping you waiting—welcome back." A content smile forms on his face. "I missed you, Emily."

" _Hmph!"_ comes his exaggerated voice. " _I can't say the same for you!"_

" _What!?_ How could you!"

* * *

With flushed cheeks, Sharon releases a shaky breath, drained from her exhausting performance. She lets them have their moment as they begin to argue, watching the rain and reflecting over how she had almost been found out in the morning—she thought that he knew this whole time, but in the end, he was suspicious for the wrong reason after all. Hiding Emily from him should have been so easy, yet she was too self-conscious about him finding out the truth that she kept drawing attention to herself—especially not to mention when her practice of Emily's voice started slipping out.

 _I really am a bad actress._ _At least I fooled him with my quick thinking..._ For that, she pats herself on the back; it was an achievement she could look back on.

"I'm sorry, Emily," she hears him coos, "but if we stay here any longer, Reim-san is going to be worried." There's only a scoff in return as Xerxes returns his focus back on Sharon. "Shall we do two more patrols before heading back?"

They _have_ been out here for a bit, haven't they? Sharon nods and leads again, but she's pulled back.

"Ah, before that though..." Chuckling at her astonishment, he gestures towards Emily. "I heard that you just finished her today. Is that true?"

She directs her stare on the doll; her smile is more brighter and amused than usual.

"Well, whatever the case," Xerxes moves on, knowing the answer, "thank you. Emily's recovered nicely."

Sharon gives a bashful smile. "It's my thanks to you for before. Besides, I feel bad if I didn't do something for you too."

He glances at his cane. "Then this is also...?"

"A welcome back gift." Her cheeks begin warming again. Stupid crush. "We were going to throw a party, but everyone's overly occupied that we can't."

"That's a shame—I was looking forward to eating cake." Xerxes feigns a disappointed expression before replacing it with genuine appreciation. "I have to admit, however, that these gifts are far better than what I could have ever asked for. You and Reim always do the most troubling things."

He may have said it in an annoyed manner, but Sharon knows he means well. "Once things have calmed down, you can have all the cakes you want, Break."

Xerxes doesn't seem persuaded. He looks at Emily for her input. "What do you think?"

 _"She has to promise! You know how young girls these days use sweet words!"_

He nods in agreement. "You have a good point... Unfortunately, as you heard my lady, I'm afraid I'll have to pass up on your offer. The risk of false hope is very high, you see. It'll be too much for an old man like me."

Sharon isn't sure if she wants to hit Xerxes, Emily, or both of them. "Fine," she says, playing along, "that leaves much more for me and everyone to eat." A sad sigh escapes out of her. "I'm sure Alice wouldn't mind it at all, but there will still be leftovers... Ah, perhaps, Reim-san will take care of it! I heard he has a sweet tooth, after all—"

"No, no, there's no need for that! I was kidding! Right, Emily?"

The doll mechanically nods. Sharon laughs. "Let's hurry, Break. The rain isn't going to let down soon."

"Of course, but...you aren't really going to let that happen, are you?" When she doesn't say anything, he laughs nervously. "...Right? Sharon? You aren't, right...?"


	3. A Day Out

_A/N:_ _I should also say that this fic is going to have a lot more slower updates from now on until summer break comes. I've written most of them out so far and have my ideas for future chapters ready, but since I am focusing on school, newer chapters will be more...rare. Scarce. Almost nonexistent. Don't worry though—I'm not going to abandon this series (at least not until I lose complete motivation). I have a lot of passion for this AU, after all._

 _Oh. And I'll probably update the chapters I have from time to time, mostly to improve on them a bit and fix some of the mistakes I didn't notice at first. Sorry if this brings up any problems!_

* * *

 **[3]**

 _Summary: It's not everyday they have an outing._

* * *

After three months does Sablier return back to normal.

The city, though it hasn't recovered completely, made many improvements and repairs necessary. Most of the rubble were removed, and the streets—or rather, what was left of them—were fixed up and cleared, making it easier to travel around. Some of the buildings were cleaned up as well, but a majority were beyond mending, forcing remaining inhabitants to relocate and move somewhere else.

The large hole in the middle of the city remained. Its prominent threat was gone, but it was still dangerous to go near the area, leaving no other choice than to block it off completely from access. Leo Baskerville had volunteered himself to stay back and keep watch on it for a time being while trying to find a name for The Core of Abyss; Vincent did the same, as did the other Baskervilles. Meanwhile, Ada Vessalius and those who were also involved left, as there was little to stay for. There were no signs of Oz, Alice, or Gilbert anywhere.

In those same months, Pandora was shut down. The organization had no purpose to further unravel the mysteries concerning the Abyss and Intention of the Abyss—as the Duchess made a great point, _"People should stay away from such great power."_ Members went back to their usual lives, traces of their research and experiments disappeared, and Pandora's existence was erased from the world. With everything possible accomplished and Sablier in a better state, none of them had to dedicate or risk their lives around contractors and chains any longer.

For Xerxes, that also meant they could return to Reveil and pass the days without having to worry too much. He's grateful to breathe the same fresh air he's grown accustomed to once again and relax without repercussions.

Duchess Sheryl rides the same carriage as him and Sharon on their return despite Duke Barma's protests and pleas; in the end, after numerous "no's" from her, Reim accompanies him. The travel is long, but the conversations along the way keep their minds off the time it takes for them to finally reach the capital city. Songs and instruments play in the air, voices of civilians come and go—everything is lively and bright, a sharp contrast to where they've been that it's a little strange. Strange, but not bad in the slightest. The welcoming atmosphere lifts up their spirits.

After a while, the carriages stop, but they're nowhere near the Rainsworth Dukedom—instead, they're located somewhere in the city. Considering the crowds of people and busy vendors, it can be assumed that they're in the middle of Reveil, where a majority of events and parades were held.

"Grandmother?" Sharon asks, puzzled at their detour. "Do you have plans to attend to?"

"My dear, not everything I do involves business or important matters." Sheryl smiles and leans over, patting her granddaughter's head affectionately. "I just thought it would be nice for us to go out and enjoy ourselves every now and then. We just returned back... Surely both of you miss the city."

Sharon and Xerxes look at each other. Then, sheepish smiles cross their features, neither of them willing to deny the claim. It _was_ true, after all—revisiting the city had been their on plans, and they have been itching to experience what the city was like again.

Sheryl seems to have picked up on that, somehow. "I thought so," she says, chuckling knowingly. "What are we waiting for then? Xerx-kun, if you would please..."

* * *

It feels like ages since they've walked on foot in the capital city. Sheryl and Rufus are ahead of them, the latter happily taking the former to wherever she pleases despite being the one in charge of leading. Sharon holds back her excitement well but slips up occasionally, shining when something interesting catches her attention; Reim is delighted too, from the way everything sparkles and how beautiful the scenery is. Even without his sight, the others' attitudes livens Xerxes' own mood quite a bit as he uses his imagination to picture what everything used to look like.

They're somewhat blurry, his memories of the setting, but he's still having a lot more fun than he would have thought. The nostalgia of his visits with the four of them—Sharon, Oz, Alice, and Gilbert—gives him a nice feeling that he can't help smiling at. It's really been a long time since he's last come here with a group.

"Xerxes," Reim calls, snapping him back into reality with a rough pull on his shoulder, "hold on. There's some place I want to visit first before anywhere else."

A confused chuckle leaves under his breath as Xerxes struggles to escape from the grasp—either he's becoming weak or his friend is becoming stronger. "Aren't you a grown man? Why do I have to come with you?"

"Because it's a place we both need to go to," Reim justifies, the gleam in his eyes growing as his hold tightens. "It's very important."

But just _how_ is it important? Xerxes doesn't get a chance to ask, as he's quickly dragged away. Confused and panicked thoughts race through his head as he hears Sharon in the distance, reminding them to not go out too far. Voices zip by his ears, replaced with new ones before _they're_ also gone, and Emily almost falls off his shoulder, causing him to hold her close.

The moment Xerxes lets go, it's finished for him; he holds on to Reim, his and Emily's lives depending on it.

"H-hey, slow down, you're going too fa—!"

"There's no time to waste!" his friend argues over him, steps speeding up. Dust appears from beneath their feet, forming small clouds that steadily grows larger every passing second. "We might _never_ get this chance again!"

The urgency in his voice scares him. Seeing the spectacled man act like this when he was usually calm and composed is unsettling, especially when Xerxes himself was being the rational one at the moment. Did all that time in Sablier make him forget his identity? Was Reveil too much for him to bare? Had he experienced a culture shock? What on earth was happening to Reim Lunettes?

 _Could it be that...he actually lost it?_ The possibility is horrifying and Xerxes begins praying that this was just a dream, that his best friend was still the regular fellow who nagged him constantly but ultimately stood by his side, no matter what. He thinks back to little, young Reim, how innocent and naive the eleven-year-old was to the world, Sharon, _him,_ but had a strong, admirable heart that only sought the best for everyone and settling for no less, even if it was a pain in the—

 _"Ack!"_

The hard floor makes contacts with Xerxes' head. He curses, glaring up at his kidnapper when a sweet aroma reaches his nose. A bell behind them rings, and the people ahead of them order cakes, cookies, pastries—typical of a shop that made and served, of course, _sweets._

Reim awes in amazement. "We're here," he mumbles, barely containing his excitement. He turns to look at Xerxes with a huge beam. "We're really here! Can you believe it?"

"Yeah, but uh..." Xerxes offers a confused look. "Where exactly _are_ we?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He helps him up to his feet, dusting off the dirt that gets on them as well; it isn't hard to figure out how overjoyed he is when his tone takes on an ecstatic turn. "We're in one of Reveil's best stores! I've heard rumors about this place—everything they make is excellent!"

Xerxes doubts the accuracy in that statement. Regardless, he keeps his mouth shut and follows Reim who studies the desserts and candies displayed. He's a little disheartened at the fact that he couldn't see what they looked like himself, but at least he can smell which ones fitted his tastes—that, and he can trust Reim to pick out his favorites.

"I never thought you would actually come here on your own," he mumbles lowly for him to hear, laughing slightly when the other scoffs after he's done ordering.

"Well, you're here with me for a reason."

There's another implication in his words. When Xerxes picks up on what it is, he smiles at his friend's thoughtfulness. "Aw, Reim-san, could it be that you're _treating_ me?"

"So you noticed."

The deadpan in his voice is both impressing and disappointing. "Oh. You're awfully straightforward today."

"Why wouldn't I be? You were complaining so much about wanting to eat something sweet in Sablier, I figured I might as well do something about it." Reim pauses for a brief moment before quietly adding, "You're my friend, too. Idiot."

The words and feelings behind them warms Xerxes' heart. Naturally, however, a huge frown spreads across his face.

"I see," comes the disgruntled answer.

Reim almost strangles him across the table they sit at. By the time the two of them are back to normal, their plates continue to be left untouched, growing colder by the minute. The icing on one their plates starts melting thanks to the sun's beams nearby.

Xerxes can feel the stare on him. Reim is silently pressuring him to eat it already. _We don't have all day now,_ his fingers' tapping says. _We are_ not _spending the whole day like this—hurry up! Why are you taking so long!? I want to eat mine too, you know!_

The tapping becomes faster and desperate when he finally picks up the fork. "Okay, okay," he reassures, entertained at the exhausted muttering that comes from him, "no need to panic! Relax."

Inhaling the scent of strawberries, pistachios and vanilla from his plate, Xerxes picks up one of the desserts, and with one bite, he understands his friend's enthusiasm about the place and its sweets—the macaroon is absolutely delicious, almost on par to the ones they have at the Rainsworth mansion. From its fluffy cream to its soft coating accompanied by a flavor that balances out the sweetness, the biscuit was just right. In fact, if he had to choose, this one managed to beat the ones he's so used to by a margin. An admirable achievement, but not _that_ impressive.

Reim is waiting anxiously for his overall answer; a bead of sweat travels down his temple. "Well?"

Xerxes glances up. Then, he takes a second one, savoring the taste a little more before picking up all the macaroons and stuffing it inside his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to form a full opinion.

"...It's good. Nice job."

A bright expression makes its way on Reim's face. Satisfied, he eats his own cake, slapping Xerxes' hand away every time it comes near.

Before leaving, they buy more sweets—for themselves, Sharon, Sheryl and Rufus.

* * *

Xerxes doesn't mind holding the number of bags in his hands, but he can definitely feel their weight sapping away his strength as he leads the Duchess down the streets. With Sharon and Reim going off to shops that interested them and the Duke mysteriously disappearing ("Lost," he was kindly corrected, "Ru-kun is lost.") _somewhere_ in the crowds, it was only the two of them left, leaving him no other choice than to stay close to Sheryl's side. Not that he particularly minds—he quite enjoys her company. Their talks always leaves him expecting something.

Even the silence between them is comfortable. Xerxes avoids walking in the middle, staying close to the sidelines. It isn't long until Sheryl looks up at him.

"Xerx-kun?"

"Yes?"

"If you're struggling, you should tell me. You may have not noticed, but..." She reaches forward to pinch his cheeks; a small sigh leaves her as she shakes her head. "You keep mumbling to yourself that I'm afraid people will actually mistake you as mad."

The statement bewilders him—he hadn't realize. Flustered, he scratches the back of his head. "Dear me... Was I very loud?"

"Just loud enough for me to hear." Sheryl gives him a gentle smile. "Tell me, is there something troubling you? These things are usually kept to yourself whenever no one's around."

"Ah..." Xerxes thinks about it, looking back on the past months. He supposes he can't keep it to himself forever. "Well, I suppose I'm still having a tough time to adjusting everything," he confesses with a slight smile of his own. His hand touches the cane strapped to the wheelchair. "It's weird. I'm carrying on normally, but now that my sight is gone, it's become much harder to live. With my condition, I'm to keep...relying on others."

"And you don't like it?"

"Rather than me not liking it...it's more so I'm worried that _they_ don't like it." He rests his head on his arm, the noise of everyone and everything that doesn't concern them becoming muffled; an uneasy feeling creeps on him. "I was so independent back then that I was often the one many relied on. Now that things have changed, I can't help wondering if they're simply returning the favor or if they feel forced to look after someone like me."

Sheryl frowns and immediately gives him a sharp pinch upon hearing those words—he winces at the pain. "Xerx-kun, we both know how foolish that way of thinking of yours is. Even without those eyes, it's clear that the people around you care deeply for your well-being. It's been shown multiple times, hasn't it?"

"I am aware." Xerxes laughs, ignoring the tightening of his throat. His tone becomes solemn. "If I am being honest, it's rather difficult to get rid of this mindset."

The change in his voice doesn't go unnoticed; the Duchess grabs his hand and holds it with a strength he's forgotten about. "Well, we'll just have to prove it to you until those thoughts go away then," she states in determination. "And we'll do it again and again if they come back. You might be stubborn, but the people around you are even more stubborn."

"Including you, Duchess Sheryl?"

"Including me," she affirms with a nod. "Sharon-chan and Reim-kun especially would never leave you alone if they were to find out."

Xerxes knows—which is why it's even more important for them to not know. He can't bare handling over his problems and responsibilities to those two, despite how much they tell him otherwise. "I hope that you keep this between us," he mumbles, the tired smile on his face becoming harder to hold. "They always look out for me in the most difficult ways that it's...uncomfortable, really. I'm not sure what to do with them."

"Isn't that good? It's helping all of you become closer." Sheryl chuckles at his unsure sigh, tapping him on the head with her fan. "Don't be afraid of your own weakness. It might seem like you're giving up, but opening yourself to others is the strongest thing anyone can do."

He remains quiet, contemplating her words and what it meant for him. From far away, Rufus' voice travels throughout the crowds and above the music and voices altogether. The moment he spots them, he begins dashing over, maneuvering around the people with Reim and Sharon who, behind him, stay as far as they can from the reckless man.

They'll be here soon. At some point does Xerxes find the will to speak again. He lets out another laugh, this one sounding less tense as his head clears. Thinking back to how many times he's been saved, how he's shown his vulnerable side more occasions than once, and the people he's come to care for holds him back from relying on others—yet, at the same time, they're also reasons that encourage him to do so.

The solution should be so simple, so easy. But here he is, hesitating and hiding his eyes from the truth that he can't look at. Not yet. Not until he can wholeheartedly put his trust the same way they have to him.

"I...can't guarantee that I'll be able to do it right away or even in the future," he admits softly, "but...I'll try my best. For all of us."

"It's better to make an effort than nothing at all," Sheryl comments lightly. "I'm glad to hear that, but don't force yourself too hard, Xerx-kun. You're still young."

His lips actually curls up. "That's just my appearance covering up for me. I'm actually an old man underneath this disguise."

"Oh, stop it—you're going to start making me feel self-conscious about my age and looks!"

Xerxes allows himself to be hit by her fan a second time before standing out of the way as Rufus rushes by her side. Scoffing in response to the lingering glare pointed at him, he can only think about their conversation, playing it over again and again. He needed to work and build on trusting himself first before focusing on the others next. It'll make things easier, if not just a little bit.

It's what he can do for now. He's convinced by that, at least.

Xerxes feels some of the heavy weight being taken away from his hands in the midst of his musings. The shocked gasp and cry of surprise makes him turn towards her, blinking in confusion.

"Break, you should have told us!" Sharon scolds harshly, referring to the bags she lifts up. "We would have taken some from you! Your arms must be tired!"

"I'm alright. Besides—" her struggling makes him smile as he attempts receiving the bags back, "—I could never ask my lady to do this. That's just ungentlemanly of me."

She snorts, moving them out of his reach. "I would rather you be less of a gentleman than suffer body strains. Not that it makes a difference, since neither images suit you."

The bluntness of her words is almost _relieving_ and gives him a fresh breath of air—it's the distraction he needs to forget about his troubles for a second. Fighting the grin that twitches at his lips, he pretends to be heartbroken and exclaims dramatically, "Goodness, that's not ladylike at all! I knew it was dangerous to release you into the city!"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?!"

Whether it was because of the heavy bags in her hands or that she spun too fast to yell at him, Sharon ends up crashing into him, which, in turn, results into _him_ crashing into Reim. In an instant, the three of them fall down, toppling over each other.

Xerxes stiffens. He holds his breath, processing his current situation.

It's so unexpected and startling, finding himself stuck with no easy way of getting out. The embarrassment of it all makes him want to hide, but he sighs and gives up, selfishly deciding to let it as be. There's no point in fixing the way things have become; besides, it isn't like it's _hurting_ him. In fact, he dares to acknowledge that it feels...nice. Comfortable. Safe.

The anxiety inside his chest slowly but surely eases. _This isn't too bad, I guess_ , he thinks reluctantly, burying his face into Sharon's shoulder as his body relaxes atop of Reim's. Xerxes indulges in the moment completely, oblivious to the sputtering from his embrace and shouts at him to get off as he engraves today in his memory.

The Duchess and Duke can only watch them with amusement. Sheryl smiles fondly at all of them when Rufus walks over and picks up the bag of desserts on the ground, waving it in their faces and threatening to take everything if they didn't get up soon.


End file.
